Hiraeth

Chapter Two

(Brief warning; May include spoilers. Read at your own risk.)

Haymitch stared at the food laid in front of him; Everything you could think of was set on a silver platter companied by various drinks. The alcoholic beverages tempted Haymitch, but he knew he must stay sober for Effie until he is alone. Everyone here was laughing and sharing memories they had with Effie - but not Haymitch. He sat there next to Peeta, his plate completely untouched. The musty scent of the church tinged his nostrils and lowered any existing appetite he had. Katniss, sat opposite Haymitch, was digging into a thick leg of lamb. Her plate was almost empty, and she would have finished a while ago if it weren't for her refilling it. Though Haymitch couldn't blame her - she had lived without enough food all her life, and even though District 12 was the new capitol without it's selfishness and strange outfits, she didn't know when her food supply might run out. Even though her appetite  was larger than the "list of the fallen" from the Rebellion bombings, she still stayed quite thin. Katniss had not spoken a word to Haymitch since Effie's death, and that agitated Haymitch slightly. He was there for her when her sister died every step of the way because he knew the pain. But now that Effie's gone she hasn't even glanced his way. Upon thinking this, Haymitch looked up and stared at Katniss, pondering if he should say something. He felt a gentle nudge from Peeta, signalling him to stop staring.  This didn't deter Haymitch - he wanted to speak to her, but he didn't want to make the first move. He felt like some awkward teenager staring at their phone for hours on end waiting for their crush to text them first. Upon the contact with Peetas elbow into his ribs, Katniss looked up from her plate and made direct eye contact with Haymitch, swallowing the remains of a mixture of meat and peas in her mouth. 

"I'm sorry about Effie, Haymitch. I honestly don't know how this could happen to her." She spat, not in a disgusting way, but in a 'I don't know what to say' way. Though Haymitch didn't process it that way. He looked at her deep in her eyes and took a swig of red wine that sat in front of him. When he swallowed it, the thought of letting down Effie ran past his mind. Haymitch was supposed to be giving up drinking, and Effie had helped him start it. But now he's completely ruined it all, 53 days without alcohol -it had been going on longer than that but he may or may not have taken a quick drink in the middle of the night.

"When's the anniversary of your sisters death? Maybe we could do something for Effie and Prim." Haymitch whispered, glaring at Katniss, trying to see between the lines. 

"It's next month..." Katniss didn't exactly want to share her beloved sisters death with someone from the capitol - even Effie. If it was Cressida, or Cinna then she would have greatly obliged, but it's Effie. She did like Effie, and was glad to see her in district 13 and appreciated the help when she had a melt down, but not 'share a memory with her sister' relationship.   Even so, Katniss solemnly nodded and returned to her meal.

"Do you know how Effie died? Because I don't. And I thought I'd be the first one to know." Haymitch said, feeling the tears run up the back of his throat. But he wasn't going to cry, if he took just a small sip of alcohol he'd be able to pull through but that's it, no more. His hand was pinching the bottom of the wine glass, in hope for a decent response. Instead, Katniss just shook her head and continued with her meal, pouring more mashed potato on her plate. Instead Peeta jumped in and told Haymitch that they have absolutely no idea. The tone of his voice seemed sincere, but Katniss appeared to be hiding something, maybe not about Effie but it still intrigued him anyway. Instead of pestering her, Haymitch took another swig of wine... then realising that Effie might be mad with him but when isn't she? So he just took it all in, Peeta staring at him in disbelief. Peeta was wondering if he should take it out of his hand again, but remembering the previous attempt on the way to the capitol during the 74th hunger games it probably wasn't a good idea. 

"Haymitch...calm down a little. I know it's hard for you, it's hard for me as well, but please don't start drinking again. Effie wouldn't have wanted it..." Peeta spoke softly, putting his knife and fork down on his plate. Haymitch sniffed at Peeta and refilled his cup, leaning back on his chair and swallowing it whole.

S.P.O.I.L.E.R COMING UP. COVER THE BOLD,ITALIC UNDERLINED PART BENEATH THIS.

-* This is based on the movies, so Finnick is NOT dead*-

Once everyone had left, Haymitch stumbled outside and drove himself to Effie's grave. The new headstone towered over Haymitch, the angel on top looming down. Her wings were large and spread out, as if creating a protective wall over Effie's grave. Haymitch knew he picked the right one, if only they let him see her body so he could dress her in her favourite outfit. Though he would be torn between the normal one and the capitol one, as much as he despised it. Maybe the capitol one would be better for Effie because she was so concious about her appearance, and sometimes when Haymitch would peak round the bedroom door he'd notice Effie admiring the butterflies. But maybe it would bring back bad memories, and it's best to put it behind them so she should rest in the blue dress. And doing that stupid make-up would be a pain, and no matter how hard he tried he'd mess it up anyway. So maybe he would have tucked the butterfly dress and her make-up and wig next to her, but lay her to rest in her blue dress with her hair down. But no. Coin wouldn't allow him to see Effie. Why? She told him they found her body in the woods, but they never told him how she died. I suppose they didn't want him to be too shaken up about it so he could help Katniss. Haymitch sighed and tried to brush away his tears. The alcoholic affect was disappearing now, and the tears were drowning his eyes. He tried to think of lovely things, what Effie used to do for him. He remembered when his brothers shirt wouldn't fit around him due to his heavy drinking , so he tried to force it and it ripped. So Effie snatched the shirt out of his hand and sowed it back together, not a single stitch out of line. It was like he never ripped it. She did it by hand, which made Haymitch think it would take her a while - but no, she had it finished in about 10 minutes. Effie wouldn't let him wear the shirt until he lost his beer belly so she threw him on all these exercise routines and non-alcoholic wine. Well, he didn't necessarily know it was non-alcoholic until he found the empty box in the recycling bin. He'd been drinking it for a strong 7 months and not even knowing. 

Haymitch always classed needlework in the art category. Especially when she did embroidering and made beautiful patterns. He knew that if Effie could get her hands on a decent paintbrush and some paints she would make an amazing piece of artwork. But she was far too fussy about her paintbrush, and the factories were still trying to be re-converted back into what they used to be. Instead of weapons and uniforms they needed to be converted into regular clothing, jewellery, etc. The graveyard was quiet except for the bird gently tweeting in the trees. Haymitch looked up to the sky and saw a beautiful arrangement of colours that slowly faded into each other. The very middle of the sky was a deep blue, then faded into a purple, then into a slight pink, red, orange, yellow then the sun. The clouds had a rim of purple around them, and the sun was peaking over the horizon. He knew that this was Effie's doing. When an artist dies they get to paint the sky.